The talk of the streets and taverns have all been about the so-called death curse: a wasting disease afflicting everyone who’s ever been raised from the dead. Victims grow thinner and weaker each day, slowly but steadily sliding toward the death they once denied.
When they finally succumb, they can’t be raised—and neither can anyone else, regardless of whether they’ve ever received that miracle in the past. Temples and scholars of divine magic are at a loss to explain a curse that has affected the entire region, and possibly the entire world.
Welcome... to the:Tomb of Annihilation
Within this adventure, you shall find terrors beyond your imagination, beacons of hope in an endless darkness, moments of laughter, moments of sadness, and (hopefully) moments of triumph. I would like for you to post your background here and also find a way to link your background with someone else's. Whether you once worked together on a project, fought each other, or are related somehow, either way, let's just work on trying to create a bit of cooperative roleplaying.
Also, if you need to comment something OOC or discuss something that you want a more instant reply to, and do not want to take up posting space PLEASE use the discord (toa3). To place your character somewhere, please click on the join link for my campaign.
Current Characters 1. Ord, Hill Dwarven Sage Light Cleric of the Lord's Alliance. Sent to aid Lesley in his studies and is his TA. 2. Lesley, Bugbear Sage Wizard of the Zhentarim. Aided by Ord in his studies and has him as his TA. 3. Salazar, Human Botanist Barbarian of the Lord's Alliance. Friends with Paulo from school, also convinced him to join the LA. 4. Paulo, Human Archeologist Rogue of the Lord's Alliance. Friends with Salazar from school, also convinced him to be a botanist.
Lesley was born Tarrog to The Chill tribe of Bugbears. However, the young cub's lack of physical prowess and traditional Bugbear values meant that his time in the tribe would be short. The Chill left him alone in the wilderness to either starve and die or make his way back to the tribe as a true Bugbear. Fate, however, opted for door number 3. A kind, traveling mage found the young cub in a storm. The both of them survived the storm together, and in the end, the mage found a new apprentice. The two travelled together for quite a while, Tarrog even chose a common name when Tarrog proved too difficult to pronounce. Nowadays, Lesley travels on his own and pursues the finer points of transmutation theory that his friend and father figure could not.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
DM - Elustran Days ~ Fate/False Revelation
Rex'aliha - Hoard of the Dragon Queen ~ Mozu of Worms- The Stormpoint Mountains ~ Muireach Maon- Shepherd’s Crossing ~ Crownsguard - Storm King’s Thunder ~ Gunnar Wayland -Boats, Rocks, and Ruffians ~ POUF!- Ex-Ravens ~ Pascal LaRoux - Long Road Dragon Heist
Paulo Drakasha is the son of Zamira Drakasha, Pirate Captain of the Poisoned Orchid. Growing up aboard the vessel, the sea is his first home. He learned the rapier and could throw a knife as well as any crewman by the age of 13. However, growing up, Paulo loved reading books and begged his mother to send him off to study. Entertaining his wish, his mother sent him out but only on the condition that he do so in a manner befitting his lineage. At the age of 17, Paulo was sent to study in Thentia. After completing a full course of study and weathering two scandals, Paulo completed his coursework and was taken on an archaeological dig where he honed his skills at disarming traps. It wasn't long after he returned, flush with the thrill of a new adventure that he ran into his schoolyard pal, Salazar Roaringhorn. A thrum of excitement in his bones, Paulo set southward, sensing adventure.
You overhear a woman of certain reputation as she speaks to a fellow in well appointed, travel-worn clothing. He has been staring distractedly into the hearth as he sips at a pewter cup of Silverymoon red. He turns, not having heard the question - as her voice is soft - but he observes no social cues to mitigate his volume.
"Hmm? Oh, well met, fair miss. I was distracted. Yes? Me? I am Salazar, 3rd son... no, 4th son now, of Romero Roaringhorn." Pleased with some name-recognition, he grows more animated. "Yes, Yes, my uncle is the Head of House Roaringhorn, here in Amphail." "I agree, most fortunate! This is a perfectly agreeable situation. It provides me with almost no responsibility to the House, but I am afforded some status as nephew to a noted member of the Lord's Alliance." In a stage whisper, he brags, "I, myself, hold the rank of Cloak, which I believe is rather excellent sounding. I honestly don't involve myself in their affairs, really."
"Are you sure I do not know you from Yartar? No?" He listens for a brief moment. "Shall I tell you more about me? My third favorite subject, only surpassed by fine drink and your captivating eyes, my dear," he responds. "I completed my education in Thentia. Concentrated on little other than cartography, botany, and some martial pursuits. I took an advance on my father's stipend and sought adventure and fine alcohol." He pauses. "I like it much better. Is Phlan where I know you from? You do seem familiar."
"Did I meet you in Longsaddle? Perhaps I did. That is where I joined an exposition into the Coldwoods. Oh, ostensibly for my knowledge of Botany, but largely because Professor's star pupil was a lovely lass," he smiles. "It was a lonely boring trip; I struck out with the botanist and the specimens in the area. Worthless flowers; Nothing fermentable to be found. That is when I was accidentally separated from the others and wandered into a camp of Grey Wolf Uthgardt Barbarians," he says conspiratorially.
"You may be incredulous, but I tell you true! Like a story from one of Volo's Guides, it was!" Moderating his volume, he adds, "They are wonderful people, for savages, and I was an honored guest." Young Roaringhorn preens. "I was initiated into the tribe, I learned their customs, their unique fighting style, all the things I might have sought if I'd cared to bother in my anthropology lessons," Salazar confides. "But after a truly interesting full moon night, I decided I had best leave before I became too much like my hosts."
"But you see, I'd missed payday and was very nearly poor, so I made for Amphail. By Tymora's luck, I came across my classmate Paulo Drashka in a roadside tavern. We talked our way into sharing a carriage with a delightful Transmutationalist- I think that's what they're called - who is headed for Baldur's Gate. It's such an agreeable arrangement that we may not stay here in Amphail at all."
Ord has spent his adult life as a Minor Librarian in the great halls of Mirabar. The second child of Clan Brighthammer, Ord followed his family’s ancient tradition of joining the Golden Spire as a librarian dedicated to preserving the great truths of Amaunator. While he loved the placid halls, he also longed to emulate the great deeds of his kith and kin, especially those in memorialised in his precious books.
Ord has recently been transferred to the Halls of Oghma in Baldur's Gate
So... I think that means we are ready to start; however, things are going to be a bit different. I want to bring your characters together through a common NPC, someone all of you knows and loves. We’ll create this person together. Everyone gets a say in who this person is and why they are important to your characters. Each of you gets to decide a certain aspect of this character. This character is someone who was an adventurer of some kind but perished in a blaze of glory (or not, totally up to you guys). Nevertheless, they were resurrected and thus merrily continued their life of adventure. At any rate... DECIDE!
Ord: You get to decide race and/or subrace, how old they are, an ideal (look at examples in the PHB for inspiration), how they were resurrected, how they met them, and how they stayed in contact with them. Salazar: You get to decide their gender, and who they worship (if at all), a bond (look at examples in the PHB for inspiration), how they met them, and how they stayed in contact with them. Lesley: You get to decide what they do for a living, a personality trait, a flaw (look at examples in the PHB for inspiration), how they met them, and how they stayed in contact with them. Paolo: You get to decide what their name is, a personality trait (look at examples in the PHB for inspiration), how they died, how they met them, and how they stayed in contact with them.
Gender:Male(though there was an incident with a wild magic zone once...)
Worships: Gives reverence to all Good & Neutral Deities, but his favorites are Segojan Earthcaller, (LG) Gnomish Deity of Earth & the Dead and Savras, (LN) the god of wizards& those who always speak truth.
Bond: I will do anything to prove myself superior to my hated rival (including outliving his smug, ignorant jerkface.)(I'll let @Zingbob or others help define who that is, but picking one that leaves profession choice open for @JcAndD)
How he met Salazar: Salazar's father arranged for an "honorarium" to the Department of Conjuration Studies at the University and <Gnome's name> was Sal's faculty adviser, who also conjured up homework, test results, and passing marks for Salazar from thin air, but never with Sal noticing. The lad just thought he was decent at everything without much effort.
How Salazar has maintained contact: <Gnome> has sent encouraging letters to convince Salazar to make something of himself(largely because Salazar's Uncle has bet him that it will never happen.)
Personality Trait: I prefer the company of those who aren’t like me, including people of other races.
Flaw: I let my need to win arguments overshadow friendships and harmony.
Met Lesley: During an arcane theory conference. Lesley had arrived with his adoptive father and was captivated with the gnome's insights into the immaterial laws.
Kept in Touch: Lesley often wrote to the gnome to get his thoughts on new ideas and theorems. Lesley often tried to get the two mages to talk, but they always showed hostility to the idea. He never has learned what happened between them.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
DM - Elustran Days ~ Fate/False Revelation
Rex'aliha - Hoard of the Dragon Queen ~ Mozu of Worms- The Stormpoint Mountains ~ Muireach Maon- Shepherd’s Crossing ~ Crownsguard - Storm King’s Thunder ~ Gunnar Wayland -Boats, Rocks, and Ruffians ~ POUF!- Ex-Ravens ~ Pascal LaRoux - Long Road Dragon Heist
Our wizened has collected a half dozen names over the years, but most know him as "Vencarlo Barsavi." It's a fun name to say. The gnome sports a multitude of nicknames running from the infamous "Rodeo the Rock" to the more playful "Bravedart," that last one being on account of his abundance of swiftness in the mounted racetracks.
Trait: I believe everyone deserves a fair chance at winning, especially if they're different from me. If I win, it's because I'm better.
In the prime of his youth, Vencarlo was a well-renowned conjurer and was frequently sent on missions by the Harpers to extract intel or personnel from entrenched locations. Most well-known for the miniature army of minor elementals he often had in his retinue, Vencarlo took on a horde of undead and infernal foes. A veritable one man army, Barsavi laid waste to his foes, annihilating them but taking a heavy toll. He sacrificed himself to cast Gate on the rescued hostages but was unable to get through before a Death Knight cut him down.
Met Paulo: A professor at the University in Thentia, Vencarlo thought Paulo to be a promising young lad, his aptitude for magic unexplored. When it came to Vencarlo's attention that the lad was running an illegal gambling den in the University's cellars, Vencarlo disguised himself and went undercover to find the truth. Consequently, Vencarlo found himself at the mercy of Paulo during a game of dice. Confident that the lad was using enchanted dice, Vencarlo cast detect magic and was astonished to realize the lad was using Sleight of Hand. Later that week, Paulo received a letter containing the information about a full scholarship and admittance into an archaeology and engineering program, with the stipulation that he stop gambling on University property.
Barsavi and Paulo enjoy a regular correspondence regarding Paulo's curriculum (which Barsavi designed) and his explorations of hidden ruins.
Vencarlo Barsavi, a wizened old gnome, has gone on many adventures. He has recovered artifacts, strange and powerful, and delved in a multitude of dungeons. In his journeys, he's taught several brave adventurers some of whom have joined him on his quests to save people. It might have been Paulo, the young man who he gambled and subsequently funded and taught, Lesley, both the adoptive son of Barsavi's most hated rival, as well an almost father-like figure (seeming to have a rivalry between Lesley as well), Salazar, the rambunctious and lazy student who he saw something in and put stake down in his spirit, or Ord, to whom he told his entire life story for it to be transcribed in the great halls of Mirabar itself and promptly took a liking to the bright scholar. All of these people stayed in contact with him, and they were overjoyed when it was learned that he had taken up another job, to extract an entire hellship of prisoners from being sacrificed to open a portal between a level of the hells and the mortal world, but in the end, wasn't able to fully escape, with a top general, a fiendish death knight (bc why not) cut him down right as he was about to escape... Luckily he was pulled through by some of the prisoners who he saved, and several Harpers sought an ancient resurrection spell to gather the soul of Barsavi, for it was stuck inside of the death knight's blade. They managed to succeed and Barsavi was brought back to the land of the living. Nevertheless, Barsavi decided that he would work more as a living history, informing the whole world of his deeds and knowledge so that way they might be passed down and future generations could be even more learned.
You hadn't heard from him for around half of a tenday when you received a mysterious letter. It seemed to be from Barsavi, but the writing was strange and the drops of some substance covered the surface of the letter.
Myfriends, Ishould havetold you this sooner. I realize that now, but I'm afraid I have ill news to report: I am dying. I do not know from what, but I do not have much time left. Imade peace with my deitiesso do notworry. Anyway, my funeral shall be here:
He then details exactly when and where the funeral is going to take place and you are all invited. You arrive at the location and see the body of your friend... or what seemed to have once been your friend. The body looks strange, flecks of skin have peeled off and patches with no hair sport his head. This surely cannot be Vencarlo Barsavi, why just last month some of you went to one of his lectures. And yet, the resemblances are striking... it must be him, and yet... how can it? You look around and feel the breeze. It is a warm day in Baldur’s Gate as you lay Vencarlo Barsavi to rest. You ask around and it seems one day your friend simply began to waste away. No cleric or paladin could stop whatever afflication he had from taking your cohort, just as the healers of Faerun couldn’t stop the dreaded affliction from taking any who died in the past. You recall that over the half of a tenday it seems many others have fallen, but you assumed it was because they could not pay to be ressurected, and yet Vencarlo was a well known and prestigious (and a bit infamous) hero. Nevertheless, after all of the death that you've seen recently, this one hurts the most. You then stand before a small crowd, gathered at a conjoined shrine of Segojan Earthcaller and Savras in Baldur’s Gate. The clerics has asked each of you give a eulogy by sharing a memory of your friendship. The time for you to address the crowd is now... what do you say?
The hulking bugbear is the first to stand, assembling a pile of notecards and standing before the podium. He adjusts his glasses, clears his throat, and begins speaking, "Greetings and salutations. My name is Lesley. I was a student of Professor Barsavi. He was truly a great gnome, with a mind much larger than his stature would suggest. He was kind and accepting of all sorts of people, myself included. In fact, I remember once, I had misinterpreted the material components of a conjuration spell. Due to arcane theory, this caused a reverb in the spell and sent chickens flying from every container in the room," The deep voice stops for a moment, expecting a chuckle... nothing, "But, I suppose you had to be there. Regardless, it is truly a sad day, for the world has lost not only one of its brightest minds, but also one of its biggest hearts. Thank you." Lesley walks down off the podium, he seems to be quite nervous.
Paulo was next. He wore his finest suit, a ruffled red silk shirt peeking out between black lapels and a burgundy velvet jacket. He started with a poem, his accent lilting in the crisp morning air.
"We weep for wonder, wandering far alone/ Echoes turn to ashes, glass, and stone/ Loss impeding, we wade through the tides/ And hope abandons us not, but guides."
Paulo blushes self-consciously, something even Salazar has never seen, before continuing with his eulogy, "It is a far thing, the loss of someone dear. It feels insubstantial. Incorporeal. Indistinct. Even now, I am not convinced that professor Barsavi isn't going to reveal that this was all a ruse so he could show his friends how much cleverer he is than everyone else. But for now, I have to accept that Vencarlo is gone, but he will not be forgotten. His legacy lives in each of us. To honor him, we must each act in accordance to the tenets by which he lived his life. Goodbye Vencarlo."
Paulo turned his bright blue eyes upward, "Crooked Warden, I will fear no darkness for the night is yours," muttered Paulo. "Your night is my cloak, my shield, my escape from those who hunt to feed the noose. I will fear no evil, for you have made the night my friend. Crooked Warden, please Safeguard this man's soul and help Segojan Earthcaller and Savras bear him swiftly home."
Salazar stands in the back of the chapel, his usually jovial face stoic. Two rows ahead of him sit a pair of older men in fine clothing; the family resemblance unmistakable. Lord Roaringhorn & his brother Romero have come to pay their respects to the irascible Professor Barsavi and the youngest Roaringhorn has been silent ever since the news of their arrival on a Lord’s Alliance ship in from Waterdeep.
"This is rubbish luck," he whispers. "Nothing good will follow this. I just know it."
It is blatantly obvious Salazar wishes to be anywhere but under the eye of his father and uncle and the gloomy atmosphere of their grief.
Ord moves uneasily behind the lectern, clearly uncomfortable. He ums and ahs for several awkward moments before falling silent. Finally he looks up and his voice steadies, as he finds refuge in a parable:
[B]And then Helios, the favoured child of the Tyrant Lorcan, descended into the darkness, a lone candle his guide and a book his solace. Terrible voices flensed his flesh and sibilant claws flayed his mind. But steady he held and passed through. A light in the black, forever more.[/B]
Ord coughs awkwardly, but seems to grow as he speaks, [B]Lord Barsavi was ever, is, and will always be such a light. His work, his very being illuminated the world. He is a guide to us all.[/B]
Part 1: The Death of a Friend... Day 6, 1200 hours
Many tears are wept by both people you recognize and people who you do not. Stories are told about the exploits of the famous teacher as people dressed in black hang their heads in grief. Nevertheless, time passes and the mourners begin to head home after saying their final goodbyes to their friend. One priest even lowers himself before the body, grasps diamond dust, and begins mystically chanting... but it is to no avail (anyone who is proficient in arcana or religion please make me a said check [but only one]). At any rate, you find yourselves to be some of the last people left amongst the once large crowd of people, all alone... except for two people who stood at the back of the crowd. As the loved ones depart these people approach you. One is a female sun elf, older but still spry, dressed in the noble finery of a northerner. The other is far more mysterious, they are draped in a heavy black cloak and wear a silver mask covering all of their face. Nevertheless, your attention is suddenly stolen by the spry elf who speaks to you: "Beautiful ceremony indeed... It is quite clear that your friend meant quite a bit to each of you. Now we have an-" Suddenly the masked figure cuts in, she speaks with a dry, raspy voice, one that reminds you of several other people who you recall have died like your friend... "There is no time for pleasantries, you see... 'heroes'. There is a chance... though slim, that your friend can be saved. The deceased's soul, along with several others might be able to be rescued. If you act quickly, you can save those still living with the affliction as well." She then stands back, seeming to let all of you take in what was just said. The elf then continues where the masked person (who based on the raspy voice does seem to be a woman) left off: "Well... indeed. There is a way for you save him. You see I am Remallia Haventree, a High Harper, and member of the Council of Waterdeep during the Rise of Tiamat. Currently, I am leading a cell of those who harp to investigate this strange affliction. We believe there are some similarities between this 'curse' as it is being dubbed, and how a lich feeds souls into their phylacteries. Therefore, a lich might be able to trace the origin of this 'curse'. We have organized a strike team to raid the lair of a lich dubbed the 'Duchess of Rot', stealing her phylactery and thus forcing her to reveal the origin of the affliction. Zaldara Cordress or the 'Duchess' has a tower in the nearby forest called Cloakwood. I assume that most of you are familiar with it, as the journey should be relatively close enough, but also far enough to not put innocents at risk." The masked woman has been tapping her foot up to this point and cuts Remallia off and begins speaking rapidly: "You are taking up too much time! We need you, yes all of you, to join us in this attack. For her phylactery is a spellbook bound in human skin locked inside of her basement. You should not be in too much danger as we shall be providing a distraction on the upper floors of her tower. This is of grave importance. Will you accept this quest?"
Harpers:
The Harpers is a scattered network of spellcasters and spies who advocate equality and covertly oppose the abuse of power, magical or otherwise. The organization has risen , been shattered, and risen again several times. Its longevity and resilience are largely due to its decentralized, grassroots, secretive nature, and the autonomy of its various members. The Harpers have small cells and lone operatives throughout the Forgotten Realms, although they interact and share information with one another from time to time as needs warrant. The Harpers' ideology is noble, and its members pride themselves on their ingenuity and incorruptibility. Harpers don't seek power or glory, only fair and equal treatment for all .
Motto. "Down with tyranny. Fairness and equality for all."
Beliefs. The Harpers' beliefs can be summarized as follows:
--One can never have too much information or arcane knowledge.
--Too much power leads to corruption, and the abuse of magic, in particular, must be closely monitored.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Lesley casts a glance toward the priest with the diamond dust, Arcana: 6, but just as quickly casts his gaze back to the woman. His eyes widen at the mention of a spellbook by a real lich. Lesley gingerly extends a hand, "Yes, I am most interested. You have my assistance."
"A man of class does not attend a funeral gird for war, Paulo, unless he is at war. I clearly have my longsword as appropriate to noble station, but..." Salazar trails off. "Why am I even discussing this? A lich's tower?!" The young man's temper rising too quickly, he takes a moment to compose himself. Calmly, he states, "You have my condolences for your loss, but this is not my concern. I was only a passing acquaintance to the Professor and I have no interest or cause to go endangering myself in a lich's tower. I am not suicidal. Best of luck, Paulo."
Salazar begins to walk to the door, resigned to facing his family.
The sun elf seems to simply ignore Salazar as she continues speaking: "Well then. I guess that you three shall be the ones of fame and fortune in the eyes of the nobility. After all this curse seems to be affecting many of the noble families, from the Moonstar, to Thann, to Talmost, to Bloodstar, even the Roaringhorns - forgive me as most of my knowledge is based in Waterdeep - have a plethora of afflicted among them, after all of their wizardly exploits a couple or two have died before. I'm sure that anyone who manages to undo the curse will be seen as a hero in the eyes of these houses." She says this loudly enough for Salazar to hear, but seems to be speaking towards the group of people who have already agreed.
The talk of the streets and taverns have all been about the so-called death curse: a wasting disease afflicting everyone who’s ever been raised from the dead. Victims grow thinner and weaker each day, slowly but steadily sliding toward the death they once denied.
When they finally succumb, they can’t be raised—and neither can anyone else, regardless of whether they’ve ever received that miracle in the past. Temples and scholars of divine magic are at a loss to explain a curse that has affected the entire region, and possibly the entire world.
Welcome... to the: Tomb of Annihilation
Within this adventure, you shall find terrors beyond your imagination, beacons of hope in an endless darkness, moments of laughter, moments of sadness, and (hopefully) moments of triumph. I would like for you to post your background here and also find a way to link your background with someone else's. Whether you once worked together on a project, fought each other, or are related somehow, either way, let's just work on trying to create a bit of cooperative roleplaying.
Also, if you need to comment something OOC or discuss something that you want a more instant reply to, and do not want to take up posting space PLEASE use the discord (toa3). To place your character somewhere, please click on the join link for my campaign.
Current Characters
1. Ord, Hill Dwarven Sage Light Cleric of the Lord's Alliance. Sent to aid Lesley in his studies and is his TA.
2. Lesley, Bugbear Sage Wizard of the Zhentarim. Aided by Ord in his studies and has him as his TA.
3. Salazar, Human Botanist Barbarian of the Lord's Alliance. Friends with Paulo from school, also convinced him to join the LA.
4. Paulo, Human Archeologist Rogue of the Lord's Alliance. Friends with Salazar from school, also convinced him to be a botanist.
DM of Tomb of Annihilation (and more) Group 2 and Group 3
Lesley was born Tarrog to The Chill tribe of Bugbears. However, the young cub's lack of physical prowess and traditional Bugbear values meant that his time in the tribe would be short. The Chill left him alone in the wilderness to either starve and die or make his way back to the tribe as a true Bugbear. Fate, however, opted for door number 3. A kind, traveling mage found the young cub in a storm. The both of them survived the storm together, and in the end, the mage found a new apprentice. The two travelled together for quite a while, Tarrog even chose a common name when Tarrog proved too difficult to pronounce. Nowadays, Lesley travels on his own and pursues the finer points of transmutation theory that his friend and father figure could not.
DM - Elustran Days ~ Fate/False Revelation
Rex'aliha - Hoard of the Dragon Queen ~ Mozu of Worms - The Stormpoint Mountains ~ Muireach Maon - Shepherd’s Crossing ~ Crownsguard - Storm King’s Thunder ~ Gunnar Wayland - Boats, Rocks, and Ruffians ~ POUF! - Ex-Ravens ~ Pascal LaRoux - Long Road Dragon Heist
Paulo Drakasha is the son of Zamira Drakasha, Pirate Captain of the Poisoned Orchid. Growing up aboard the vessel, the sea is his first home. He learned the rapier and could throw a knife as well as any crewman by the age of 13. However, growing up, Paulo loved reading books and begged his mother to send him off to study. Entertaining his wish, his mother sent him out but only on the condition that he do so in a manner befitting his lineage. At the age of 17, Paulo was sent to study in Thentia. After completing a full course of study and weathering two scandals, Paulo completed his coursework and was taken on an archaeological dig where he honed his skills at disarming traps. It wasn't long after he returned, flush with the thrill of a new adventure that he ran into his schoolyard pal, Salazar Roaringhorn. A thrum of excitement in his bones, Paulo set southward, sensing adventure.
You overhear a woman of certain reputation as she speaks to a fellow in well appointed, travel-worn clothing. He has been staring distractedly into the hearth as he sips at a pewter cup of Silverymoon red. He turns, not having heard the question - as her voice is soft - but he observes no social cues to mitigate his volume.
"Hmm? Oh, well met, fair miss. I was distracted. Yes? Me? I am Salazar, 3rd son... no, 4th son now, of Romero Roaringhorn." Pleased with some name-recognition, he grows more animated. "Yes, Yes, my uncle is the Head of House Roaringhorn, here in Amphail."
"I agree, most fortunate! This is a perfectly agreeable situation. It provides me with almost no responsibility to the House, but I am afforded some status as nephew to a noted member of the Lord's Alliance." In a stage whisper, he brags, "I, myself, hold the rank of Cloak, which I believe is rather excellent sounding. I honestly don't involve myself in their affairs, really."
"Are you sure I do not know you from Yartar? No?" He listens for a brief moment. "Shall I tell you more about me? My third favorite subject, only surpassed by fine drink and your captivating eyes, my dear," he responds. "I completed my education in Thentia. Concentrated on little other than cartography, botany, and some martial pursuits. I took an advance on my father's stipend and sought adventure and fine alcohol." He pauses. "I like it much better. Is Phlan where I know you from? You do seem familiar."
"Did I meet you in Longsaddle? Perhaps I did. That is where I joined an exposition into the Coldwoods. Oh, ostensibly for my knowledge of Botany, but largely because Professor's star pupil was a lovely lass," he smiles. "It was a lonely boring trip; I struck out with the botanist and the specimens in the area. Worthless flowers; Nothing fermentable to be found. That is when I was accidentally separated from the others and wandered into a camp of Grey Wolf Uthgardt Barbarians," he says conspiratorially.
"You may be incredulous, but I tell you true! Like a story from one of Volo's Guides, it was!" Moderating his volume, he adds, "They are wonderful people, for savages, and I was an honored guest." Young Roaringhorn preens. "I was initiated into the tribe, I learned their customs, their unique fighting style, all the things I might have sought if I'd cared to bother in my anthropology lessons," Salazar confides. "But after a truly interesting full moon night, I decided I had best leave before I became too much like my hosts."
"But you see, I'd missed payday and was very nearly poor, so I made for Amphail. By Tymora's luck, I came across my classmate Paulo Drashka in a roadside tavern. We talked our way into sharing a carriage with a delightful Transmutationalist - I think that's what they're called - who is headed for Baldur's Gate. It's such an agreeable arrangement that we may not stay here in Amphail at all."
Ord has spent his adult life as a Minor Librarian in the great halls of Mirabar. The second child of Clan Brighthammer, Ord followed his family’s ancient tradition of joining the Golden Spire as a librarian dedicated to preserving the great truths of Amaunator. While he loved the placid halls, he also longed to emulate the great deeds of his kith and kin, especially those in memorialised in his precious books.
Ord has recently been transferred to the Halls of Oghma in Baldur's Gate
So... I think that means we are ready to start; however, things are going to be a bit different. I want to bring your characters together through a common NPC, someone all of you knows and loves. We’ll create this person together. Everyone gets a say in who this person is and why they are important to your characters. Each of you gets to decide a certain aspect of this character. This character is someone who was an adventurer of some kind but perished in a blaze of glory (or not, totally up to you guys). Nevertheless, they were resurrected and thus merrily continued their life of adventure. At any rate... DECIDE!
Ord: You get to decide race and/or subrace, how old they are, an ideal (look at examples in the PHB for inspiration), how they were resurrected, how they met them, and how they stayed in contact with them.
Salazar: You get to decide their gender, and who they worship (if at all), a bond (look at examples in the PHB for inspiration), how they met them, and how they stayed in contact with them.
Lesley: You get to decide what they do for a living, a personality trait, a flaw (look at examples in the PHB for inspiration), how they met them, and how they stayed in contact with them.
Paolo: You get to decide what their name is, a personality trait (look at examples in the PHB for inspiration), how they died, how they met them, and how they stayed in contact with them.
DM of Tomb of Annihilation (and more) Group 2 and Group 3
Race: rock gnome
Age: impossibly old, even for a gnome
Ideal: Tough love - sometimes (ie all the time) you have to be cruel to be kind
Resurrection: Harper agents snuck into a lair/stronghold to steal his body back and have it resurrected at a temple of Amaunator
How he met Ord: The libriary in Mirabar tasked Ord with transcribing the gnome's detailed recollections of his life
How they have maintained contact: Ord has had to follow up continuously since for clarifications.
Gender: Male (though there was an incident with a wild magic zone once...)
Worships: Gives reverence to all Good & Neutral Deities, but his favorites are Segojan Earthcaller, (LG) Gnomish Deity of Earth & the Dead and Savras, (LN) the god of wizards& those who always speak truth.
Bond: I will do anything to prove myself superior to my hated rival (including outliving his smug, ignorant jerkface.)
(I'll let @Zingbob or others help define who that is, but picking one that leaves profession choice open for @JcAndD)How he met Salazar: Salazar's father arranged for an "honorarium" to the Department of Conjuration Studies at the University and <Gnome's name> was Sal's faculty adviser, who also conjured up homework, test results, and passing marks for Salazar from thin air, but never with Sal noticing. The lad just thought he was decent at everything without much effort.
How Salazar has maintained contact: <Gnome> has sent encouraging letters to convince Salazar to make something of himself (largely because Salazar's Uncle has bet him that it will never happen.)
Profession: Conjurer
Personality Trait: I prefer the company of those who aren’t like me, including people of other races.
Flaw: I let my need to win arguments overshadow friendships and harmony.
Met Lesley: During an arcane theory conference. Lesley had arrived with his adoptive father and was captivated with the gnome's insights into the immaterial laws.
Kept in Touch: Lesley often wrote to the gnome to get his thoughts on new ideas and theorems. Lesley often tried to get the two mages to talk, but they always showed hostility to the idea. He never has learned what happened between them.
DM - Elustran Days ~ Fate/False Revelation
Rex'aliha - Hoard of the Dragon Queen ~ Mozu of Worms - The Stormpoint Mountains ~ Muireach Maon - Shepherd’s Crossing ~ Crownsguard - Storm King’s Thunder ~ Gunnar Wayland - Boats, Rocks, and Ruffians ~ POUF! - Ex-Ravens ~ Pascal LaRoux - Long Road Dragon Heist
Our wizened has collected a half dozen names over the years, but most know him as "Vencarlo Barsavi." It's a fun name to say. The gnome sports a multitude of nicknames running from the infamous "Rodeo the Rock" to the more playful "Bravedart," that last one being on account of his abundance of swiftness in the mounted racetracks.
Trait: I believe everyone deserves a fair chance at winning, especially if they're different from me. If I win, it's because I'm better.
In the prime of his youth, Vencarlo was a well-renowned conjurer and was frequently sent on missions by the Harpers to extract intel or personnel from entrenched locations. Most well-known for the miniature army of minor elementals he often had in his retinue, Vencarlo took on a horde of undead and infernal foes. A veritable one man army, Barsavi laid waste to his foes, annihilating them but taking a heavy toll. He sacrificed himself to cast Gate on the rescued hostages but was unable to get through before a Death Knight cut him down.
Met Paulo: A professor at the University in Thentia, Vencarlo thought Paulo to be a promising young lad, his aptitude for magic unexplored. When it came to Vencarlo's attention that the lad was running an illegal gambling den in the University's cellars, Vencarlo disguised himself and went undercover to find the truth. Consequently, Vencarlo found himself at the mercy of Paulo during a game of dice. Confident that the lad was using enchanted dice, Vencarlo cast detect magic and was astonished to realize the lad was using Sleight of Hand. Later that week, Paulo received a letter containing the information about a full scholarship and admittance into an archaeology and engineering program, with the stipulation that he stop gambling on University property.
Barsavi and Paulo enjoy a regular correspondence regarding Paulo's curriculum (which Barsavi designed) and his explorations of hidden ruins.
Vencarlo Barsavi, a wizened old gnome, has gone on many adventures. He has recovered artifacts, strange and powerful, and delved in a multitude of dungeons. In his journeys, he's taught several brave adventurers some of whom have joined him on his quests to save people. It might have been Paulo, the young man who he gambled and subsequently funded and taught, Lesley, both the adoptive son of Barsavi's most hated rival, as well an almost father-like figure (seeming to have a rivalry between Lesley as well), Salazar, the rambunctious and lazy student who he saw something in and put stake down in his spirit, or Ord, to whom he told his entire life story for it to be transcribed in the great halls of Mirabar itself and promptly took a liking to the bright scholar. All of these people stayed in contact with him, and they were overjoyed when it was learned that he had taken up another job, to extract an entire hellship of prisoners from being sacrificed to open a portal between a level of the hells and the mortal world, but in the end, wasn't able to fully escape, with a top general, a fiendish death knight (bc why not) cut him down right as he was about to escape... Luckily he was pulled through by some of the prisoners who he saved, and several Harpers sought an ancient resurrection spell to gather the soul of Barsavi, for it was stuck inside of the death knight's blade. They managed to succeed and Barsavi was brought back to the land of the living. Nevertheless, Barsavi decided that he would work more as a living history, informing the whole world of his deeds and knowledge so that way they might be passed down and future generations could be even more learned.
You hadn't heard from him for around half of a tenday when you received a mysterious letter. It seemed to be from Barsavi, but the writing was strange and the drops of some substance covered the surface of the letter.
My friends,
I should have told you this sooner. I realize that now, but I'm afraid I have ill news to report: I am dying. I do not know from what, but I do not have much time left. I made peace with my deities so do not worry. Anyway, my funeral shall be here:
He then details exactly when and where the funeral is going to take place and you are all invited. You arrive at the location and see the body of your friend... or what seemed to have once been your friend. The body looks strange, flecks of skin have peeled off and patches with no hair sport his head. This surely cannot be Vencarlo Barsavi, why just last month some of you went to one of his lectures. And yet, the resemblances are striking... it must be him, and yet... how can it? You look around and feel the breeze. It is a warm day in Baldur’s Gate as you lay Vencarlo Barsavi to rest. You ask around and it seems one day your friend simply began to waste away. No cleric or paladin could stop whatever afflication he had from taking your cohort, just as the healers of Faerun couldn’t stop the dreaded affliction from taking any who died in the past. You recall that over the half of a tenday it seems many others have fallen, but you assumed it was because they could not pay to be ressurected, and yet Vencarlo was a well known and prestigious (and a bit infamous) hero. Nevertheless, after all of the death that you've seen recently, this one hurts the most. You then stand before a small crowd, gathered at a conjoined shrine of Segojan Earthcaller and Savras in Baldur’s Gate. The clerics has asked each of you give a eulogy by sharing a memory of your friendship. The time for you to address the crowd is now... what do you say?
DM of Tomb of Annihilation (and more) Group 2 and Group 3
The hulking bugbear is the first to stand, assembling a pile of notecards and standing before the podium. He adjusts his glasses, clears his throat, and begins speaking, "Greetings and salutations. My name is Lesley. I was a student of Professor Barsavi. He was truly a great gnome, with a mind much larger than his stature would suggest. He was kind and accepting of all sorts of people, myself included. In fact, I remember once, I had misinterpreted the material components of a conjuration spell. Due to arcane theory, this caused a reverb in the spell and sent chickens flying from every container in the room," The deep voice stops for a moment, expecting a chuckle... nothing, "But, I suppose you had to be there. Regardless, it is truly a sad day, for the world has lost not only one of its brightest minds, but also one of its biggest hearts. Thank you." Lesley walks down off the podium, he seems to be quite nervous.
DM - Elustran Days ~ Fate/False Revelation
Rex'aliha - Hoard of the Dragon Queen ~ Mozu of Worms - The Stormpoint Mountains ~ Muireach Maon - Shepherd’s Crossing ~ Crownsguard - Storm King’s Thunder ~ Gunnar Wayland - Boats, Rocks, and Ruffians ~ POUF! - Ex-Ravens ~ Pascal LaRoux - Long Road Dragon Heist
Paulo was next. He wore his finest suit, a ruffled red silk shirt peeking out between black lapels and a burgundy velvet jacket. He started with a poem, his accent lilting in the crisp morning air.
"We weep for wonder, wandering far alone/
Echoes turn to ashes, glass, and stone/
Loss impeding, we wade through the tides/
And hope abandons us not, but guides."
Paulo blushes self-consciously, something even Salazar has never seen, before continuing with his eulogy, "It is a far thing, the loss of someone dear. It feels insubstantial. Incorporeal. Indistinct. Even now, I am not convinced that professor Barsavi isn't going to reveal that this was all a ruse so he could show his friends how much cleverer he is than everyone else. But for now, I have to accept that Vencarlo is gone, but he will not be forgotten. His legacy lives in each of us. To honor him, we must each act in accordance to the tenets by which he lived his life. Goodbye Vencarlo."
Paulo turned his bright blue eyes upward, "Crooked Warden, I will fear no darkness for the night is yours," muttered Paulo. "Your night is my cloak, my shield, my escape from those who hunt to feed the noose. I will fear no evil, for you have made the night my friend. Crooked Warden, please Safeguard this man's soul and help Segojan Earthcaller and Savras bear him swiftly home."
Salazar stands in the back of the chapel, his usually jovial face stoic. Two rows ahead of him sit a pair of older men in fine clothing; the family resemblance unmistakable. Lord Roaringhorn & his brother Romero have come to pay their respects to the irascible Professor Barsavi and the youngest Roaringhorn has been silent ever since the news of their arrival on a Lord’s Alliance ship in from Waterdeep.
"This is rubbish luck," he whispers. "Nothing good will follow this. I just know it."
It is blatantly obvious Salazar wishes to be anywhere but under the eye of his father and uncle and the gloomy atmosphere of their grief.
Ord moves uneasily behind the lectern, clearly uncomfortable. He ums and ahs for several awkward moments before falling silent. Finally he looks up and his voice steadies, as he finds refuge in a parable:
[B]And then Helios, the favoured child of the Tyrant Lorcan, descended into the darkness, a lone candle his guide and a book his solace. Terrible voices flensed his flesh and sibilant claws flayed his mind. But steady he held and passed through. A light in the black, forever more.[/B]
Ord coughs awkwardly, but seems to grow as he speaks, [B]Lord Barsavi was ever, is, and will always be such a light. His work, his very being illuminated the world. He is a guide to us all.[/B]
Ord appears to have made a decision.
And just like that... an adventure begins.
Part 1: The Death of a Friend...
Day 6, 1200 hours
Many tears are wept by both people you recognize and people who you do not. Stories are told about the exploits of the famous teacher as people dressed in black hang their heads in grief. Nevertheless, time passes and the mourners begin to head home after saying their final goodbyes to their friend. One priest even lowers himself before the body, grasps diamond dust, and begins mystically chanting... but it is to no avail (anyone who is proficient in arcana or religion please make me a said check [but only one]). At any rate, you find yourselves to be some of the last people left amongst the once large crowd of people, all alone... except for two people who stood at the back of the crowd. As the loved ones depart these people approach you. One is a female sun elf, older but still spry, dressed in the noble finery of a northerner. The other is far more mysterious, they are draped in a heavy black cloak and wear a silver mask covering all of their face. Nevertheless, your attention is suddenly stolen by the spry elf who speaks to you: "Beautiful ceremony indeed... It is quite clear that your friend meant quite a bit to each of you. Now we have an-" Suddenly the masked figure cuts in, she speaks with a dry, raspy voice, one that reminds you of several other people who you recall have died like your friend... "There is no time for pleasantries, you see... 'heroes'. There is a chance... though slim, that your friend can be saved. The deceased's soul, along with several others might be able to be rescued. If you act quickly, you can save those still living with the affliction as well." She then stands back, seeming to let all of you take in what was just said. The elf then continues where the masked person (who based on the raspy voice does seem to be a woman) left off: "Well... indeed. There is a way for you save him. You see I am Remallia Haventree, a High Harper, and member of the Council of Waterdeep during the Rise of Tiamat. Currently, I am leading a cell of those who harp to investigate this strange affliction. We believe there are some similarities between this 'curse' as it is being dubbed, and how a lich feeds souls into their phylacteries. Therefore, a lich might be able to trace the origin of this 'curse'. We have organized a strike team to raid the lair of a lich dubbed the 'Duchess of Rot', stealing her phylactery and thus forcing her to reveal the origin of the affliction. Zaldara Cordress or the 'Duchess' has a tower in the nearby forest called Cloakwood. I assume that most of you are familiar with it, as the journey should be relatively close enough, but also far enough to not put innocents at risk." The masked woman has been tapping her foot up to this point and cuts Remallia off and begins speaking rapidly: "You are taking up too much time! We need you, yes all of you, to join us in this attack. For her phylactery is a spellbook bound in human skin locked inside of her basement. You should not be in too much danger as we shall be providing a distraction on the upper floors of her tower. This is of grave importance. Will you accept this quest?"
Harpers:
The Harpers is a scattered network of spellcasters and spies who advocate equality and covertly oppose the abuse of power, magical or otherwise. The organization has risen , been shattered, and risen again several times. Its longevity and resilience are largely due to its decentralized, grassroots, secretive nature, and the autonomy of its various members. The Harpers have small cells and lone operatives throughout the Forgotten Realms, although they interact and share information with one another from time to time as needs warrant. The Harpers' ideology is noble, and its members pride themselves on their ingenuity and incorruptibility. Harpers don't seek power or glory, only fair and equal treatment for all .
Motto. "Down with tyranny. Fairness and equality for all."
Beliefs. The Harpers' beliefs can be summarized as follows:
--One can never have too much information or arcane knowledge.
--Too much power leads to corruption, and the abuse of magic, in particular, must be closely monitored.
--No one should be powerless.
DM of Tomb of Annihilation (and more) Group 2 and Group 3
Lesley casts a glance toward the priest with the diamond dust, Arcana: 6, but just as quickly casts his gaze back to the woman. His eyes widen at the mention of a spellbook by a real lich. Lesley gingerly extends a hand, "Yes, I am most interested. You have my assistance."
DM - Elustran Days ~ Fate/False Revelation
Rex'aliha - Hoard of the Dragon Queen ~ Mozu of Worms - The Stormpoint Mountains ~ Muireach Maon - Shepherd’s Crossing ~ Crownsguard - Storm King’s Thunder ~ Gunnar Wayland - Boats, Rocks, and Ruffians ~ POUF! - Ex-Ravens ~ Pascal LaRoux - Long Road Dragon Heist
24 ((Perception to notice things about the mysterious fellow))
Drawing a hidden pair of knives and shortsword out of the folds of his coat, Paulo elbows Salazar in the side.
This is why mother always said to be prepared. Where's your axe? You didn't leave it at home, did you? There's adventuring to be done, Sal!
Paulo nods curtly to the Bugbear and Dwarf. Standing amongst the three others, he resembles a rapier. Sharp, slender and guarded.
"A man of class does not attend a funeral gird for war, Paulo, unless he is at war. I clearly have my longsword as appropriate to noble station, but..." Salazar trails off. "Why am I even discussing this? A lich's tower?!" The young man's temper rising too quickly, he takes a moment to compose himself. Calmly, he states, "You have my condolences for your loss, but this is not my concern. I was only a passing acquaintance to the Professor and I have no interest or cause to go endangering myself in a lich's tower. I am not suicidal. Best of luck, Paulo."
Salazar begins to walk to the door, resigned to facing his family.
The sun elf seems to simply ignore Salazar as she continues speaking: "Well then. I guess that you three shall be the ones of fame and fortune in the eyes of the nobility. After all this curse seems to be affecting many of the noble families, from the Moonstar, to Thann, to Talmost, to Bloodstar, even the Roaringhorns - forgive me as most of my knowledge is based in Waterdeep - have a plethora of afflicted among them, after all of their wizardly exploits a couple or two have died before. I'm sure that anyone who manages to undo the curse will be seen as a hero in the eyes of these houses." She says this loudly enough for Salazar to hear, but seems to be speaking towards the group of people who have already agreed.
DM of Tomb of Annihilation (and more) Group 2 and Group 3